Krysta over at Evil Chef Mom has tagged me to participate in a meme. The idea behind this particular meme is that one posts five random facts about themselves, along with accompanying pictures which represent that fact. Fair enough. But since this is a food blog, after all, I’m going to try and keep these facts as food-related as possible.
I am married to an Englishman.
He loves tea. A lot. He does not, however, like Tony Blair. But back to tea.
When we first started dating, I made it a point to learn how to make the most killer cup of tea possible. If my husband were to refashion Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, he would create an entirely new tier of the pyramid between “Physiological” and “Safety” simply called “Tea.” You can see, then, how it would be very important that I — as a hopeful future girlfriend, fiancee, wife — would learn how to make a perfect cup of tea for the man I love.
My husband prefers his tea on the weak side (in my double-espresso opinion…), with plenty of milk and real sugar. I think it’s very indicative of his personality, and I’ve discovered that you can tell a lot about a person by how they take their tea. Richard is sweet, traditional and calm — just like his tea. He’s the ideal counterpoint to my brash, eccentric and flighty personality.
I perfected the tea-making art about three years ago and it’s been smooth sailing ever since. I highly recommend seeking out that one thing that your significant other just adores and learning how to either (a) make it or (b) appreciate it. I’ve also done this with soccer (a.k.a. football) and HP Brown Sauce. Keys to a happy marriage, indeed.
I am afraid of grilling things.
I am not afraid of other people grilling things. I just don’t like doing it myself.
I am terrified of turning on the propane tank on our patio grill. I don’t like lighting the charcoal in other, charcoal-based grills. I don’t like being that close to open flames and/or combustible gases and liquids. I am afraid that I’ll do something wrong and the next thing you know, there will be a mushroom cloud and a smoking crater where the Coleman used to be.
Alternately, I’m afraid that I’ll totally undercook the meat and put someone in the hospital with E. coli where they will contract a medicine-resistant staph infection and die.
I’m also afraid that I will accidentally set my eyebrows on fire. In short, I will leave the grilling activities to my husband, my father and anyone else willing to undertake the potentiality of a painful, fiery death.
I love Frito Pies.
Oh, man. If Frito Pies aren’t the epitome of junk-food based Southern comfort food, I don’t know what is. It was always THE BEST DAY OF THE WEEK when the cafeteria served Frito Pie in elementary school. It was bigger than getting an extra $0.35 from your mom for a post-lunch Drumstick, bigger than two classmates having birthdays on the same day and therefore having cupcakes in the morning and the afternoon, bigger than Field Day and eating popsicles and Sno-Cones until you threw up a metric litre of Red Dye #7 behind the T-shack after winning the Hula Hoop war.
Frito Pies can only be made with real Fritos corn chips. You simply cannot accept any imitations. And Frito Pies must also be made with chili that contains questionable meat and cheese that does not contain any actual cheese, but does contain “cheese food product.” And, to be truly authentic, they have to be served one of two ways: (1) in a small, white-and-red paper boat-shaped carton or (2) in the actual, plastic-foil Fritos bag.
If you’ve never had a Frito Pie, you don’t know what you’re missing. I suggest you head down to your local grocery store and whip one up tonight. You can thank me later.
There can never be enough broccoli.
Seriously. I love broccoli. I could eat it with every meal. I love it lightly steamed with a pinch of salt and some butter. I love it raw with blue cheese dressing. I love it stir fried. I love it in casseroles. I love it in omelettes. I love broccoli. Broccoli isn’t the most versatile vegetable, but it’s the most delicious. Period.
You broccoli-phobes out there: Really? I mean…really? Why? It’s so good! Just give it another try! Come over one night and I’ll make it for you. Richard didn’t like it at first, either, but I managed to convert him after just one meal! Just think about it, that’s all I’m saying…
I also love bacon.
***WARNING! ADULT LANGUAGE AHEAD!***
There is NOTHING that bacon can’t do. There is no dish that can’t be improved by the addition of bacon. I challenge you to come up with a single recipe — desserts aside — that wouldn’t be delicious with some lovely crumbles of bacon….or strips of bacon…or wrapped in bacon. Bacon will turn vegetarians back into omnivores. Bacon has the potential to solve all the world’s problems.
Sweet, delicious bacon.
That said, I’m terrible at actually cooking bacon. It goes back to the fear that I will set something — namely myself — on fire. All of the popping and snapping kind of terrifies me, so I have to quickly slap the bacon in the pan, cover it with a mesh screen and run away until it’s done cooking. I’m the biggiest weenie, I know.
Well, now that you’ve learned five completely random facts about me, I’m off to tag five more unsuspecting food bloggers out there. I’ll be sure to leave their blogs/names here when I get back.
Until then, happy eating, chickadees!